A/N: This was wrote at random (while I took a break from my other story) and it is carrying on a drabble I wrote awhile ago. The Isaac's painting one... It's not really good though...I just wrote it on the spot now and prob. has errors. (sigh)

"Hello…umm…Mohinder Suresh?" The strangled voice on the other line startled Mohinder at first for he wasn't used to people calling his cell phone.

"Speaking, who's calling?" He asked back curiously, secretly hoping it was someone returning his call.

"My name is Isaac Mendez. I was told by Peter that you were a specialist with genetics…" Isaac's voice trailed off and Mohinder could hear clinking on the other side.

"Yes! I mean, I do have some knowledge with genetics and evolution." He hesitated for a moment feeling unwarranted suspicion curl up his spine, learned harshly from a bitter betrayal the day before. "How did you get this number?"

"Oh! Umm…" There was a grating sound on the other line and Mohinder thought it sounded like a chair. "I can see the future…and I, well, I saw myself dialing this number. So I just…uh…copied it."

Mohinder blinked at the phone feeling the overwhelming hope swell in his chest as the absurd reply answered his next question. "You can paint the future, Peter was right."

Isaac chuckled on the other line, releasing the tension that was in it before. "Yes, I can paint it. I was actually wondering if I could meet you."

"Of course," Mohinder replied, shuffling through his own papers and digging for Isaac's address located in the back of the comic book he had. "I'd love to come."

Isaac cleared his throat, "You don't need my address, right? Peter said he brought you here once before."

"That's right. I also have your comic." Mohinder replied grinning warmly into the phone as he struggled putting his jacket on.

"Umm…Can you not bring any weapons with you…" The statement had Mohinder pausing, as his free hand dropped the jacket and landed on the pistol he had.

"Why?"

"Just don't. And you don't need your jacket either." Isaac's statements were so firm and strange that Mohinder couldn't help but follow along, out of curiosity.

"Okay." Mohinder answered, letting the jacket fall to the floor and carefully placing his gun in the desk drawer.

"See you in a bit." Isaac's end of the phone went dead and Mohinder stared at the phone puzzled.

"Bye." He shrugged and slid the phone into his pocket before heading out the door with comic book in hand.

Isaac paced around his flat, feeling adrenaline rush through his veins as he held the dog collar in hand and sighed. "Please hurry Mohinder."

"Isaac Mendez?" Mohinder's voice called as a loud wrapping on the door startled Isaac.

"Coming!" He called, shoving the collar into his pocket before opening the door. "Come on in."

Mohinder glanced curiously around, taking in the paintings. "Wow, so many."

Isaac smiled and closed the door firmly, locking it. "Yes, I paint them everyday. I can't fit them all in a comic book."

Mohinder smile was warm and trusting, "That's amazing, can I take a closer look?"

"Be my guest." Isaac motioned for Mohinder to look around feeling guilty for what he was about to do.

"An explosion…" Mohinder stood staring down amazed at the floor as Isaac enclosed his hand over a syringe of sedatives he had bought.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Isaac asked casually, striding over to a mini fridge he prepared earlier.

"Yes, that'd be nice." Mohinder replied as he drifted over to a picture of Peter falling.

Isaac kept a close eye on the man as he poured a glass of coke before moving to give it to Mohinder. "Here you go."

Mohinder took the glass smiling, not at all distrurbed when Isaac's arm wrapped around his shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Thank you."

Isaac felt a little guilty, but he pushed that feeling away because the world was at stake. "Do you like my paintings?"

"They're very interesting. How do you draw them…I mean, how do you see the future?" Mohinder turned to look at the paintings and that's when Isaac jabbed the syringe into the vulnerable neck.

"What?" Mohinder gasped, tearing away from the hold and touching his neck tenderly.

The glass of coke fell to the floor and broke, sending shards of glass skidding across the painted mural, while Isaac whispered his apologies. "I'm sorry, it's the only way."

"You…you…" Mohinder's eyes fluttered shut, his body collapsing as his vision clouded and he fell into Isaac's waiting arms.

"Sorry Mohinder, but I know you won't mind when you wake up." Isaac settled the geneticist down onto the floor and began undoing his shirt, praying he still had enough time to get prepared.

"Hello? Anybody home?" Sylar called out cheerily into the darkened room as he entered the painter's loft.

"Mnghh…" A groaning sigh flowed into his ears and Sylar paused, eyes scanning the darkness for sight of the person making the sound.

His eyes widened as he took in a familiar outline in the shadows of a canvas. "Mohinder?"

"Zane?" A slurred voice sounded as the shadowed body rolled over, coming into clear view due to the light of the moon leaking through the windows and Sylar couldn't stop staring at beautiful dark skin.

Sylar crept forward, his eyes devouring the sight of flesh and perfection while drowsy, drugged eyes peered up at him curiously. "What are you doing here Zane?'

"I came looking for Isaac," Sylar crouched down, running possessive fingers down Mohinder's shoulders lovingly while he imagined tracing bloody paths of pleasure into the skin. "Why are you here Mohinder?"

Mohinder's eyes widened as he sat up, the light pooling over the rest of his naked body while he crawled forward to examine Sylar's face closely. "You're not Zane…"

Sylar's eyes caught the collar hanging around that vulnerable neck, his name branded deeply into the metal tag. "No, I'm Sylar. And you belong to me."

Mohinder gasped as Sylar dragged his body closer using the collar and moaned into the bruising, possessive kiss. "Mmm..."

"I saved the world." Isaac toasted as he leant back in his chair, eyes glowing as it viewed the happy life of two once doomed men living together in the future.
A/N: Hopefully the random crazy ideas will leave me alone now and allow me to write seriously for Out of Mind.